Sunday, 27 June 2010

09.

...forgive me Father, for i have sinned...

i have these thoughts, father, nasty thoughts, take them away from me, father, please make them stop, mak'em disappear, i wanna be pure, father, late in bed, i used to dream, father, oh, bad bad dreams, wicked they are, wicked thoughts in my head, i'm scared, they scare me, father, they scar me, i know they can see the scars, it's the mark of cain, imprinted on my soul, father, if i have a soul it's rotten, fetid, for everuone to hear, smell, how putrid it is, the mark, father, the curse, burned into the forehead, glowing, they saw it and they hunted me down, father, like the animal i was, like the animal i am, they hunted me with stones, yelled names at me, tried to scratch and peel the mark off my brow for i was evil, father, and the blood ran into my eyes and they laughed, and i ran and they let me run, and they caught up with me again, and howled and hooted, a game to them, father, i was trapped, there were many boys, older boys, made fun of me, shoved elbows and feet into my ribs, made fists and swore, faces glistening red, eyes glistening red, i closed my eyes, father, and prayed, father, prayed they'd not hear my fears, my thoughts, my desires, the filthiness in my head, i prayed father, it must've screamed out to them, they spat at me father, and i hadn't the words to beg, they knew, they heard me, father, twisted, evil, they said, sick, sick, sick, you're fucking sick, sorry father, that's what they said, they'd wash me clean, they said, the scum clean, i deserved it father, i did, and they lifted me by the armpits and i thought they'd tear off my arms, and laughed and whispered as they dragged me to the warehouse, on my way home, i was thinking nothing bad then, only to get home in time before the storm, and mum'n potroast and my favorite tv program, and they just came along with their bikes, and kicked and picked and dragged me there, in the abandoned warehouse with its smells of mould and shit and rust, junkies used to go there to hit and crash probably, father, in the air the smell of human despair, i can recognize it anywhere, now, back then i didn't know what it was, the smell of fear, excitement, thunder crackling, electricity amidst sweaty bodies, they pushed and shoved me around, growling roaring laughter ringing in my ears, was plastered into wet chest after wet chest and slapped and squeezed and hands around my throat, sick little fuck they said, sorry father, and eyes adjusted to darkwess, and teeth glinted and eyes crazy with that wetness you see in those fat, desperate men cruising the park in their german cars, or in the public loos, with the clammy hands frisking ya, father, that's what i saw in their eyes, and i knew and they knew and i prayed, and was thrown onto a dirty, gutted mattress smelling of human excrement, stains, stench, couldn't move, father i saw them fumblinbg with their shorts and whipping em out, father, and as they laughed, hoarsely, like they were mad, torrents of warm piss hit my face, eyes, nose, and, oh father, forgive me, i opened my mouth and drank it all, tasted like colour, of amber of gold, forgive me god, and they saw, and they leered, god forgive me father but i was hard, father, i touched myself, and once they ran dry, no more jeers or laughter, i was turned over, on stomach, fuck, sorry father, i'm a sinner i told you, i'm hard now, i'm sick, the boy i had a crush on, he kneeled in front of the mattress and put his hand under my chin, he had a huge cock, sorry, penis, leaking, he tipped my chin up and held it to my mouth, and oh god, father, yes, father, yes, had my shorts ripped down by hands, mmmmm, that feels fucking good father, yes, he held his big mushroomy head to my lips and i, oh fuck, father, yes, feels good, i opened my mouth and took it in, they knew father, i' was hungry for it, i'm so hungry for it, i sucked as hard as i could and behind me, a body fell on me, plastered me on the mouldy mattress and held me open, fingers poked at me, the boy i had a crush on held my head steady and ha-a-a-ammered away deep in my throat, i gagged, shit flew out my nose and mouth, oh jesus father, let me just readjust, undo this, it's a bit tricky, ohm, yea, that's hot, that's great, one of the boys fucked my ass, and i was in pain, like being torn apart inside, something wrong, and the boy i had a crush on, he hooked each index inside each corner of my mouth and pulled apart and tried to cram as much of his cock and baals inside, like now, oh yes, father, like that, but i had a small mouth back then,i was just a skinny little kid, it hurt from behind, that boy came groaning, and then another one took his place, and, oh yes, father, can you put your fingers there?, yes, inside, oh yea, fuck, it went like this, i dunno, for hours it felt, hands spreading pulling splitting my legs apart while one boy fucked in me, then another, two fingers, fathers, put two in, deep, deep inside, yes, had tow boys try to push inside me and it stretched so wide, i couldn't hold it anymore,and they got soiled and very angry, they started kicking in my ribs, balls, cock, and i was like dead, wouldn't cover myself, gave myself to the pain, three fingers, father, please, i need to be filled, i'll make it up to ya i promise, they came inside and all over me, it stang when it hit the wounds and the eyes, fuck, yes, yes, and then peed on me again, made me clean em off my own shit, you know father, i was a naughty boy, when they got tired of fucking me they looked aorund while i waited on that mattress, oozing from every pore and hole, harder, please, yes, harder now, they came back, pushed objects inside me, played with me liek they were cats and i the dead dying mouse, shoved things up there, bottles they found lying around, and the boy i had a crush on, he lit up a cigarette and puffd away while cum seeped from the corner of my mouth and then just put it out on my belly and i screamed and it sounded like, oh god, fuck, oh fuck, father, ow, i-i-i'm coming -FUCK-

...oh father, i'm sorry, forgive me, i'm so sorry, this will have to stay between us father, i know, i will not say a word father, of course, our secret, confessional privilege, thank you father, and may i have your blessing, and forgive me, and

I hope you made this confessional in a little vestibule first,the priest would have thanked you, as an extension of god.to me it seems like,you only find the sacred through the profane,the darkness in the light.